


Biscuits

by aquilasaurus



Series: Winter at the Castle [3]
Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: Baking, F/F, Fluff, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Romance, Useless Lesbians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 04:54:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16866529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquilasaurus/pseuds/aquilasaurus
Summary: Our heroine attempts to reveal her feelings, in a non-revelatory manner. Ficlet.Day 5 of the Winter Fluff Event: Baking.





	Biscuits

Hecate was not particularly at home in kitchens. To be sure, there were observable similarities between cooking and potion-crafting, but baking was another category entirely. Terrible things happen to witches involved with ovens.

But here she was, in the kitchen, her black dress now a flour-dusted surface. She had belatedly draped a pink apron – the only one she could find – over herself, but it was too little and too late. At least she had had the foresight to tie her hair back.

She had followed the recipe exactly – preheat the oven, cream butter and sugar, add eggs, flour, flavour. She had rolled out the dough, cut it into little shapes, and arranged them carefully on a baking sheet. She had placed them into the oven.

But then – oh, then. She had brought a book, and this was her undoing. She settled at the kitchen table and looked up fifty pages later to see tendrils of smoke curling out of the oven door. She jumped up so quickly that she forgot to mark her page, and hurried over. 

It was all wrong. Into the bin.

And so she started again. Butter, sugar. Flour. A timer, this go-round. Twenty-five minutes later, the delicate scent of ginger. Hecate collected her wares into a tin, which she deposited on the Deputy Headmistress’ desk. She knew nothing of biscuits, frankly, but hoped they would prove adequate.

-

When she finally returned to her office, close to dusk, Ada’s brown hair was windswept and her cheeks tinged with cold. She estimated that she had been out for a sufficient length of time. Peeling off her gloves, she glanced over at her desk, noticed the modest addition, and grinned in private triumph. Her intuition had been spot-on. This terribly drawn-out operation to seduce one Hecate Hardbroom was well underway.


End file.
